Destashification

So sorry for the spotty posting of late. Things chez Panique have been un peu triste, what with the gut-wrenching anxiety over getting (or, rather, not getting) the necessary math class and my decision Saturday morning to finally get moving on a long-delayed major destash.



For those of you unfamiliar with the lingo, destashing is a culling of accumulated craft materials, and in my case, half-finished projects. Argh. I swear, it's not about the money. It's about a feeling of one little failure (a failure to plan, a failure to research, a failure to execute) after another, piling up, until they fill two utility shelves and loom over you while you are eating (in the dining area) and sleeping (in the bedroom).

At least I started off with a cheery breakfast.



The aroma of boiling milk and oatmeal (I like the old-fashioned kind, but not the steel-cut, that's weird) roused John, but just enough to moan at me about the smell. He's not a fan of breakfast generally, and not of oatmeal specifically. So sad. He doesn't know what he's missing, and in spite of the recent guacamole reversal, he advises me not to expect any further progress on the food front.

I've sorted out about two thirds of my junk so far: that is to say, I've sorted and boxed up about two thirds of what I had, I'm not quite finished, and I'm already losing my attachment to a few things that went into the keep pile. It's a heart-stopping amount of stuff; each of these boxes in completely full. I haven't figured out what to do with it, but it will not, I repeat, not be moving to the storage space. Etsy seems out of the question, since I want this stuff to be gone. A non-profit, perhaps? I told John I'd make a decision by the end of the week.

Nice dream

In my dream, I had just finished reading a wonderful book. The book was short, and sweet. It was funny. The characters were resourceful and their motivations were believable, though the story was fantastic. I woke and realized it wasn't a dream! Stardust was just lovely.


I think these trees would look right at home in Faerie. Conjoined is the work of Roxy Paine and currently inhabits Madison Square Park, courtesy Mad. Sq. Art, a program of the Madison Square Park Conservancy. Yep, that's the Empire State Building in the background.


Another piece, Defunct. Is this view, with the wooden water tank, too artsy?

Lovin' it...

Yum, right?

I know it looks like breakfast, but it was lunch. There's cheese in the egg, and a little salt and pepper. It was preceded by a giant bowl of gazpacho 2.0, which I had the foresight to set out before I went downstairs to exercise, so it was cool but not icy when I got back. Sadly, I think I overdid the onion in this batch, so I kept tasting it all afternoon, even after eating the rest of the pint of blueberries and vigorously brushing my teeth.

Karen called mid-soup and I got to wish her a belated happy birthday. Hooray for birthdays! Hooray for friends calling!

Unfortunately, yesterday was not without frustration. Oh, Hunter College -- how would I keep my bood pressure up without you? While I was waiting for my math placement scores to become "official," the class that I need filled up. Now I have to cross my fingers and hope some kid's financial aid doesn't come through so I can squeeze in when students are dropped for non-payment. Erm. I went ahead and registered for chemistry and its lab, and I hope I can hang onto those for the time being. And I got a great art history course: Islamic Art. I loved the Art of the Book in Islam course I took at UT a couple years ago, and I've heard good things about this one.

Last night I returned the rest of my math review workbooks to the library and picked up Neil Gaiman's Stardust. I was delighted to see that it appears to be of a normal length, which is to say, less than half a Harry Potter. The movie trailer looked intriguing, and I know that his fans are rabid, I mean, devoted. Speaking of, I think I'll take it to the park.

Off I go!